Author: Robyn Carr

“The party was great, Jack. Thanks again for everything you did.”

“I didn’t do anything. This town has a habit of turning out for important people.”

“I’ve been checking on Liz,” he said. “She’s doing great. You can’t believe how good she looks. Beautiful, in fact.” He laughed. “I didn’t think she could get more beautiful.”

“That checking business seems to work out for you pretty well,” Jack said, lifting his cup. “Your complexion looks a little clearer.”

Rick laughed and ducked his head a little. “Here’s how it is, Jack. Me and Liz—it’s not cut-and-dried. I’m going to finish my hitch, alone. We’re not going to make any promises to each other until that time’s up.” He shrugged. “We’re gonna let Liz get a little older, finish school, see where we are. I want her to have a chance, you know. If this isn’t right for her—hooking up with me—then I want her to have the space and time to move on. In the meantime, for right now, we’re still a little too locked in to each other. You can understand that, can’t you? After everything… Well,” he said, lifting his mug and taking a sip, “we have a pretty strong bond. I’ll be there for her as long as she needs me—it’s the least I can do. I’m not going to tell her she can’t feel it, that she has to try to get over it.”

“How about you?”

“Oh-ho.” He laughed. “I feel it pretty good. That girl really does it to me. She always has. It’s just going to take some time to know if it’s permanent or just something that happened to us.”

“You’re not taking any chances, are you?”

“Of course not. And I mean, absolutely not. I don’t want you to worry. I don’t want you to think I’m a total idiot who never heard a word you were saying.”

Jack put his hand over Rick’s forearm. “I don’t think that.”

“Thanks.” Rick was quiet for a minute or so. “It’s nice, Jack. When there isn’t a lot of pain. When there aren’t any tears. Nice.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “You hunting with us? Or you just going to spend your whole leave working on your complexion?”

Rick grinned. “I’m hunting,” he said. He drank a little of his coffee. “We’re not doing that much hunting, are we?”

The whole town of Virgin River looked forward to the visits of the Marine brothers—they brought such an air of camaraderie and celebration when they came. The first to arrive in his truck with camper shell was Zeke, who came from Fresno. He was in town by early afternoon. Just a couple of hours later came Joe Benson and Paul Haggerty together, pulling a fifth wheel behind a truck—they were good friends who often worked together, Paul building Joe’s houses whenever possible. Then came Corny, who drove in from Washington State but hailed from Nebraska—thus the nickname. Next, Phillips and Stephens—Josh and Tom—both from Nevada, right on the other side of the Sierras. By 6:00 p.m. everyone was present, even Rick, and the din in the bar was raised to an all-time high.

Doc Mullins was in the midst of the throng, enjoying his one whiskey of the day with the guys, David was being passed from Marine to Marine, jostled as if being weighed, Rick was getting an awful lot of free advice and Mel, Brie and Paige were hugged so much they felt their bones crunching. Of course, others from town made brief appearances, wanting to be a part of the reunion for at least a little while, but not wanting to get in the way. Connie and Ron and their friends Joy and Bruce put in appearances. Harv dropped in for a beer after work, as did Doug Carpenter and Fish Bristol.

Paul dropped an arm around Mel’s shoulders and asked, “Why the long face? Aren’t you having fun?”

“I hate hunting. I can handle ducks, but not deer. I mean, I don’t want to pass judgment—I just wish my husband didn’t shoot deer.”

“Oh, Mel, don’t worry. I’ve been hunting with your husband—the deer are completely safe.”

“Melinda, we’ll have venison all winter. You’ll love it,” Jack said.

“Don’t worry, Mel,” Paul whispered. “He’ll never get a thing. They can smell him coming.”

Some people came into the bar and Mel immediately recognized Vanessa, her newest patient. The older gentleman with her must be her father. She left Paul’s side and went to her immediately, embracing her in welcome, and was then introduced to Walt, her dad.

Paul just stood where he was, glassy-eyed with a faraway smile on his lips. Vanessa! His best friend’s wife. Then Vanessa spotted him and went to him instantly, arms open wide. He hugged her, rocking her back and forth a little. Then he held her away from him and stared approvingly at her belly, which was growing nice and round. “I had no idea you’d be here,” he said, refusing to take his arms from around her.

“I wanted to surprise you. My dad’s retirement ranch is just down the road and I’m staying there while Matt’s in Iraq. Mel’s going to deliver my baby.”

“When?”

“A few months. Gosh, it’s so good to see you. I haven’t seen you since—”

“The wedding,” he answered. “God, Vanni—you’re gorgeous.” He touched her belly. “Jesus, he kicked me.”

“We don’t know what it is yet.”

“Gotta be a guy,” Paul said.

She was joined by her dad, his hand out to Paul in greeting. “General, good to see you, sir,” Paul said. “Let me introduce you two around,” he said.

Several of the guys knew Matt, but the only person in the room to have already met Walt, General Booth, was Mike. Because of his investigation of teens, he’d been to the Booth household. And although the general invited them all to address him by his given name, only the women seemed so inclined. For these Marines, rank had its privileges. General Booth declined the offer to join the hunting party, saying he might take them up on that the next time. After about twenty minutes of introductions and conversation, Paul grabbed Vanessa’s hand, dragged her off to the table nearest the hearth and sat her down there to talk, to catch up. He wanted to hear all about Matt, about her little brother Tommy, about how she liked living way out here, so far from everything.

And she wanted to know everything that was going on with him. Paul, thirty-five like Matt, had left the Marines after four and remained in the reserves while Matt stayed active. Paul had finished his degree and joined his family’s construction company in Grants Pass, Oregon, not far from the California border. “And are you seeing anyone?” she asked him, grabbing his hand across the table.

“Nah, not really. Until someone as pretty as you comes along, I’ll just keep looking.”

“You’ve always been too shy for your own good. You should be married and have a ton of kids. You’d make such a great dad.”

“Yeah, I should,” he agreed.

“I’ve missed you, Paul,” she said. “Will I be seeing more of you now? While I’m here?”

“Sure,” he said. “Yeah, I get down here sometimes.”

At about eight o’clock the crowd thinned out a little bit. Mel and Brie took the baby home, giving Jack strict orders to sleep in the RV on the pullout if he had too much to drink with his boys. Paige had already gone upstairs to bathe Christopher and get him into bed and the general took his daughter home, promising to drop in the next night for a beer and a debrief on the hunt. Rick went home to his grandma’s and promised to be back at 4:00 a.m. for the trek back into Trinity to hunt.

When it was down to Marines, the cards, money and cigars came out. Poker ensued. At about ten Paige swam through the smoke and tapped Preacher on the shoulder. He folded his hand, having nothing anyway, and said, “Be right back.”

“God, it’s weird, seeing Preach act like the little husband,” Stephens said.

“Little husband?”

“You know what I’m saying. All Paige has to do is lift her pinkie finger and he’s on his knees.”

“How are your eyes, man? She can lift that little finger my way and I’d get on my knees,” Joe said.

“The little husband might pound you into sand,” Jack said.

“I meant if she weren’t married. You old farts are starting to act real whipped.”

“That’s because we are,” Jack said. “And it’s good. It’s very, very good.”

Preacher came back, lifted his cigar and took a pull. “I’m not hunting tomorrow,” he said. “I’m going to have to stay here.”

“Why?”

“It’s ovulation day,” he said with a straight face.

“It’s what?” three men asked in unison.

“It’s frickin’ ovulation day, jag-off. We’re trying to make a baby and if I miss ovulation day, who knows how long I’ll have to wait. I don’t feel like waiting. I’ve been waiting.”

His explanation was met with completely nonplussed silence—no one at the table knew about this quest, including Jack. And after a moment of stunned silence, laughter erupted that was so loud and wild, the men were nearly falling off their chairs.

When the group got a little under control, Preacher asked, “Is there something funny about ovulation day? Because I don’t think it’s funny.”

“Nah, it’s not funny, Preach,” Joe said. “It’s cute, that’s what it is.”

“But really, Preach, you should hunt and leave me home—I’d probably make a better-looking baby than you, anyway,” Zeke said.

“You’ve made enough frickin’ babies, jag-off,” Preacher said. “Your wife sent you up here to hunt so she can catch a break. Whose deal is it anyway?”

While they dealt a few more hands, Jack noticed that Paul didn’t seem to be laughing as much as the others, but he was drinking more. Paul folded his hand, left the game, poured himself a shot from the bottle on the bar and sat up on a stool. Jack had them deal him out and went behind the bar. Paul turned pinkened, watery eyes toward him. “Oh, boy,” Jack said. “You’re going to hate yourself.”

“Don’t I know it,” he agreed with a slight slur, drinking another shot nonetheless.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“About what?”

“I’m thinking it has something to do with Vanessa,” Jack said.

“Matt’s my best friend. That would be wrong.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. For me, anyway.” He put his empty glass on the bar.

Jack was sure Paul had already had too much, but he poured. “Okay, now I’m just taking advantage of you,” Jack said. “Because I’m curious. She said you and Matt were together the night you met.”

“Yeah. I should’ve stopped going out with him years ago. I spotted her first.”

Jack kind of lifted his brows. “How’d he get her, then?”

Paul threw back his drink. “I think the son of a bitch said dibs.” And then he put his head down on the bar and passed out.

So that’s how it went. Because if Matt was the first one to get to her, talk to her, and if she was impressed enough to go out with him, a Marine doesn’t mess with a brother’s woman. Not even Valenzuela would do that. That was a line even he had never crossed—not his Mexican brothers and not his Marine brothers. Because he liked living….

Whoa, damn, Jack thought. And now she’s married, pregnant and Paul is still miserably drawn to her. That bites.

“I’m going home,” he said to the boys. “Back here at four. Someone has to put Haggerty to bed.” He shrugged into his jacket. “Try not to burn the place down, huh?”